


Old Friends

by Voidspeaker (Cloudspun)



Category: Calvin & Hobbes
Genre: Because her death is mentioned..., Does Calvin's mom count as major character?, Fluff, Gen, adult!Calvin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 14:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudspun/pseuds/Voidspeaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Calvin left his home and his life behind one day, when his father dragged him out to the just-bought car with only the clothes on his back. Now, he's 21 and has come back home to reminisce, and finds an old friend</p>
            </blockquote>





	Old Friends

He couldn't believe how much things had changed. The forest where he used to play was gone, and a new development had been built. His treehouse was falling to pieces, and what wasn't rotten was covered in graffiti. Calvin shook his head, and headed toward his old house. The building he found was empty, barren of life. The furniture was still there, but it was dusty, unused. The windows were boarded up, and the old "For Sale" sign was now marked "Condemned." He wandered inside, finding the kitchen, where his mom had so often fixed him food when he was young... the 20-year old sighed, and wiped a tear from his eye. If only he had known then what he knew now... maybe he would've appreciated his mother more had he known she would die of cancer before he turned fifteen. His dad had stood strong, even as Calvin himself broke down at the cremation service.

"Dad..." he murmured. His dad had been there as Calvin went through the living nightmare of adolescence, which was worse without a mother's guiding hand. Calvin shook his head. His dad was still alive, but he was getting ld now and was suffering from diabetes. Calvin shook his head, and noticed where his feet had traveled while he thought. His room was still a mess, but he suddenly felt at ease in the organized chaos. He paused as his foot made contact with something, and looked down...

Hobbes had wondered when Calvin and his dad left everything. He had heard Calvin yelling that they had forgotten him again, but his dad had said that they were making a new start and that Calvin needed to grow up. If only that aging man could have turned to see the tears on his son's face, he might have listened to Calvin. Hobbes had been watching. He had seen those tears. Calvin normally never cried... but something in him had changed when his mom died. He had been more reserved, less inclined to go on the adventures he had loved as a seven-year-old. But, he clung to Hobbes more often until the day they left.

Now, Hobbes' older ears picked up on the subtle creaks of someone inside the aging house. The tiger prepared to defend his home, lying in wait on the floor of his beloved companion's room. He froze when he saw the intruder's face.

Calvin felt tears running down his cheeks as he beheld the animal before him. HE had missed his friend for six years, and now...

"H...Hobbes?" he asked, his voice barely even a whisper. The tiger looked at him, a smile growing on that striped face, then tackled him. Calvin was seven again, just home from school. Then the hot-then-cold tears on his face brought him back to reality. Calvin hugged his old friend tight, his broad shoulders shaking from his sobs.

"I t-t-old h...him we f-forgot you... I... I m-missed you, H...Hobbes." Calvin sobbed, hugging the fuzzy, now-plush tiger close. He felt Hobbes' arms wrap around him, and his sobs eventually ceased.

"So... what now?" the tiger asked. Calvin sniffed, and wiped his nose on his sleeve. He got up, still holding the tiger close.

"Suzy and I were looking for a place to live... I think we need to move back home." Calvin said, a smile on his tear-stained face.

With that, the blond-haired man ventured back out into the fall air, his old friend by his side.

 


End file.
